


My Human

by Sketching_around



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Get ready to cry yall, M/M, POV from Makka, heed that specific tag if that bothers you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 06:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketching_around/pseuds/Sketching_around
Summary: A look into Makkachin's mind on a nice day.





	My Human

Before him, it was cold. 

 

My human, that is. And the world in regards to cold. Freezing, even. I don’t remember much, but I remember the bite of winter well enough, penetrating my brown curls no matter how much I curled up, no matter what sliver of sunlight that was mercifully granted to me. 

 

It was always so cold, even on the day I met him.

 

Or rather, the day he found me, I should say, as our meeting was nothing short of an accident I am sure of. However, what a happy accident it was, as that was the fated day that I finally learned what warm felt like.

 

I remember it clearly, to this day even with my mind as fuzzy as the fur on my back. Rooting through the cans the human set out every seventh moon, looking for something to sustain myself, I had heard a noise. High pitched, whining almost. My ears, better in my youth, had caught the sound, intrigued. I could have just gone back to searching, stuck my large nose right back into the trash turned treasure, but something inside of me refused to let it slip even as I slipped on the icy sidewalk. 

 

The legs of the humans blocked my path for only a second before parting. I wasn't a small dog in any way back then, just a tad smaller than I am now, and I remember the way they scoffed and huffed. It didn't matter. That whining was right in my ears, that cry stronger with each passing second. I knew I was getting closer. What to, I did not know at the time, yet as I lay here in my human’s home I am grateful I followed all the same, because the second our eyes had met I knew they were meant for me.

_   
_ My human’s eyes were - are, really - the most beautiful shade of blue I have ever seen, still to this day. On that day, I recalled the way they shone, wet and wide as they stared right into my own. He smelled like something I now know as the pale yellow flowers that I’ve seen over the course of my life. It was nice, drew me closer to him as I had listened to the way he sniffled, paid attention to the way he shook. Slowly, carefully, I had made my way to the very being that would change my life for the better.

 

He was small, that I knew, for he looked nothing like the humans I had grown accustomed to seeing, with their large coats and stern looks and towering demeanors. He was everything they weren’t, with his wide eyes and long fur only on the top of his head - I had remembered thinking this was strange, as how was he supposed to stay warm in this sort of weather without any fur? - looking distressed with his eyes glassed over in a way that I could only describe as helpless. I remember seeing it in the eyes of the other dogs on the streets, the one who had succumbed to the cold. The smaller ones. 

 

They never made it through the cold.

 

The human had been small. Alone. And he would not make it.

 

I'd never made much contact with them before. The humans, that is, as it had been difficult to catch their eyes and far easier to catch the bottoms of their leather soles, the proof in the wounds I had been accustomed to. However, in that moment, all rationality had left me and all that existed was me and the human I would learn to call mine. 

 

I had been cautious, for as much as the cry called me I was still wary of these humans. The shrill wail from earlier had died down, leaving sniffling and a low thrum of distress behind as the human stared me down with those beautiful eyes. My mind's eye can picture exactly how I approached them with the smallest of steps, my nose twitching as their scent became apparent not three feet away. 

 

They smelled of the flowers in the shops I passed, for there were no wild ones like it. Even now, as my nose fails me most often, I can pick out my human's scent no matter how faint. 

 

That moment so many years ago is the very reason I am here yet began so roughly. As I got closer to the small human they only backed away just the same as I did, creating a dance that can be singularly described as hesitant. Afraid.

 

How long we stayed like that, I'm not sure, but it was he who made the first move. His arm slowly, carefully had stretched out - covered in cloth save for his hand, so pale it might as well have blended in with the snow on the ground - trembling as I warily met it, sniffing and searching for signs of danger. Foolish of me, considering he was a mere child at the time, but so was I.

 

That flower scent had hit me full force with the action, calming all of my nerves, soothing me, warming me regardless of the snow around us. My eyes had slipped shut on their own, the slight heat radiating off the human welcome just as much as the human's hand remained hovering near my face. I was not scared of the human, was not intimidated for once; rather, the moment I touched my nose to his hand, I felt as though he and I were meant to meet right there in that alley. 

 

He, however, had not felt the same. That much had been extremely obvious when he backed away when I licked his hand for the first time and he recoiled as if he'd been burned, those eyes changing from helpless to fearful. Completely understood; I was a stranger to the human way back when, a large beast that had stalked towards him, licked him as if I were tasting a meal instead of making a lifelong friend. I wouldn't trust me either should I have been in his position. 

 

So we continued like this for a moment or two more, small, hesitant steps towards each other until finally, I had sat myself down just a foot before him. Looking up at him in that moment, I am now reminded of what he looks like. It is the same thing that graces the town these days during the coldest months of the year, with their white gowns and beautiful hair and shining rings of light. He was more beautiful than the depictions. He always was. 

 

Ah, but on that day so many moons ago his face was graced with not the smile I am used to now but filled with fear. It calms me now to know that was not completely attributed to me, rather, the situation he was in. 

 

The situation had become apparent once the human finally warmed up to me. As it turns out, the human was not alone at the time. Well. Alone physically, yes, but that changed. The human warmed up to me eventually, as evident by the way he had finally touched my head with his hand without seeming to shake. His hand was cold against my fur, seeping deep into my skin. It was concerning at the time. I wanted to help him. Warm him. So, despite the cold, I let him touch me as he had spoken to me in the language I did not understand. 

 

“G-Good doggie… Do you know where Yakov is…?”

 

I had only stared, looking up at the beautiful human. Blue eyes stared back. The human sighed. “Of course not. You’re just some dumb mutt…” I tilted my head. He tilted his back. A game, I had assumed, barking to show my appreciation and tell the human I enjoyed it. He, however, had only flinched and huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “Stupid dog.”

 

I had heard these words prior to meeting the then-small human. They were the same ones that accompanied heavy boots in my side, the same that had humans yelling. This knowledge had made me back away at the time, hanging my head so as to show him I was harmless. It was quiet, the only noise that of the life going on as usual behind us. His voice came to my ears a while after. 

 

“Ugh. I guess you being here is better than being alone.”

 

My head picked up when I heard the crunch of snow and found him closer, his face having that look of disgust yet curiosity. His hand, tentatively, reached out towards my head, carefully brushing against the top. I leaned into the touch, my eyes slipping shut and enjoying the rare contact with humans. The hand had stayed there, unmoving and light as a feather. My tail had never been one to be lazy and that case had been no different. It wagged happily behind me as I nuzzled closer into the touch, closer to this human, hoping my advance would not be unwelcomed.

 

Luck, fate, whatever you may call it; they had been at my side that moment, for the human took this action as an invitation, their hand pressing more firmly against my skull, rooting itself in my fur. They spoke once more, their tone far softer. 

 

“You don’t have a collar… You’re pretty big for a stray.” I opened my eyes and looked up at him, how his expression morphed from hesitancy to something friendlier. Lovelier. “You’re a poodle, right? I always expected those things to be smaller.”

 

I dared to take a few steps closer, enjoying this immensely. The human made a noise then, something akin to a gasp but it didn’t sound unpleasant, that hand stilling for a moment before he continued his petting. “Heh… Guess you aren’t so bad.” 

  
My head made contact with his leg, pressing close, tail behind me going wild. The human was tense, just slightly, but I did not mind. This was paradise, with his flowery scent and soft touch, and I did not want to give it up. It seemed he didn’t either, as he permitted the contact. He looked around, sighing once more.    
  
“Great. Now I’m lost  _ and _ I’m stuck with a dog.” A tilt of his head down and he looked into my eyes. “I don’t suppose you can help me find Yakov, can you? I heard dogs are good with that sort of stuff.” His eyes lit up for a second, that beautiful blue just growing more vibrant and kind as he dug something from his pocket, producing a scrap of fabric, it seemed. There was a scent on it, faint yet familiar to me now, smelling of smoke and musk. He held it to my face, allowing for me to smell it properly. “What do you think? Can you find it?”

 

Their language was and still is a mystery to me. I can not decipher what they say, only assign certain words to actions, such as  _ sit _ and  _ stay.  _ Even then, that level of comprehension had taken years to master. So obviously, I didn’t not have a clue as to what my human had said in that moment. But, as he looked to me with those eyes, filled with trust and need, desperation, I felt as though I knew what I had to do. What he wanted me to do. Like he reached into my head and spoke to me in a language only he and I knew. So, naturally, I started to move.

 

My gait was slow, for I knew the other could not keep up. As ignorant as I once was about humans and their limits at the time I at least knew enough to expect him not to have the ability to run by my side. He followed behind me, calling me as I sniffed my way through the crowd, searching for smoke and musk, stopping every now and again only to shake my head and continue on my way. I was getting closer with each step, the sound of the human’s paws padding behind me, his scent in the back of my mind even with this new one fresh in my nose. 

 

It was only when we had travelled a little ways away from where we first met that the scent was overpowering and seemingly frantic. I stopped in that moment, among the bustle of a more populated area of the city I had never before dared to venture into - back then, the older dogs had warned us not to, as people were crueler there - the human I had come to call mine standing by my side looking and smelling just as distraught, looking around himself wildly. 

 

“Oh… Do you see him? He’s not hard to miss, he should be close, right?”    
  
Though his language was and still is a mystery, I had always been proficient at reading tones, and his was of desperation, pure and unfiltered. A whine had been bubbling in my throat, let loose due to the human’s, and I trotted in place as I looked around just as he did. What I was looking for, I was unsure of back then, not yet knowing of the old man with the angry face that the human held dear to his heart. However, I would soon come to know him, as the human beside me had gasped and ran, leaving me confused and barking as I ran after him. 

 

“Yakov! Yakov, wait! Here, wait, it’s me!”

 

He has stopped ahead of me. Or, rather, he flung himself against the larger man, his arms wrapped around him the best they could as the other sputtered and spoke.

 

“Vitya! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Don’t you ever stray away from my side again!”

 

His voice was harsh on the ears but as I looked to the older human I found his face riddled with worry and relief as he hugged the other. I sat, tail wagging behind me as I watched the two humans interact. Their words were lost on me, as it always had been, but that angry tone turned warmed as they held one another and spoke. However, it was cut short when the large man caught sight of me, his face morphing from one of concern to confusion.

 

“What is this dog doing following you? Do not tell me you picked up a stray while you were lost.”

 

Those piercing blues turned to look at me, his long, beautiful fur swaying with the action. I recall looking up to him, not sure what I was listening in on, unsure of how my life was going to change as the human blinked once, twice, before his face broke out into the biggest smile I had ever seen. He let go of the other human right then and there, instead reaching a hand out to pat the top of my head. It was my turned to be bewildered but I accepted nonetheless, my eyes having slipped close.    
  


“I guess I did, huh?”

 

My memory grows fuzzy as the image fades away, replaced instead with the recollection of how I found myself in one of the very the homes the humans lived in. It was odd. Very odd. The scents and sights were frightening at first, my resolve broken easily with the beckon of food. The human knew just what to do in those first moments together as owner and person, tempting me with toy and food and clean water. Our lives together had just begun, it seemed, the younger version of me having no clue, simply indulging myself on food not scavenged from a dumpster and the comfort of not being cold all the time. I thought for sure it was going to end; after all, such luxuries were not fit for a street dog like myself. No, they were reserved for the ones that walked on leashes, that gave us passing views into the lives of ownership. The clean fur, the fat stomachs, the pep in the step as they walked. The encounters were brief but they were worth it to see into a whole other world outside of my own. And this? This, while wonderful and everything the leashed dogs had told him about, was temporary, I knew. Or expected, rather.

 

But instead of the cycle of the moon passing and going along with myself in the pampered life I had lived, the human kept me around. Let me stay as long as I wished. There were times I woke up in the night, convinced it was a mirage brought on by hunger pains I had known so well, but those thoughts were dispelled when I was greeted with full bowls of food and water and my human sleeping peacefully on the large bed next to my own. Sometimes, I would listen to his breathing, the slight whistle of the air which passed through his mouth and nose as he slept in paradise. My breathing would sync with his own before falling out of rhythm once more, and everything felt right in the world.

 

There was, of course, bumps in the metaphorical road. I found out very quickly that my human left me alone for many periods of time. I would be left with nothing more than a disinterested human who refused to play with me as I waited by my own human’s bed, waiting for the day he would be back, the back of my mind playing a mantra of doubt. It was lonely. It was cold, no matter how warm the home was. For on those days, my light was gone, and my younger brain was very keen on convincing me it was gone forever. 

 

But, I had a knack for being wrong, it seemed. 

 

He would always return, without fail. Sometimes happy, shoving something that smelled of the large, scary factories on the grey part of town in my face. Those were the days we would lie in bed and my human would talk for ages, telling me of everything to him but nothing to me, but I never listened more intently than in those moments. Sometimes, he came home sad, the salty air stinging my nostrils as he simply dropped in the entryway and held onto me like I was his center of the universe. And I tried. I tried everything to be what he needed. I licked his face, his hands, let him cry into my fur and grab tight handfuls of it to pull me closer. It hurt. It always did, my fur being short, but I endured it, for it was what he needed, and I would always be there for him.

 

We moved many times. Each time was just as strange as the last in the beginning but we both got accustomed easily. There have been many memories in which I cherish with my human. The time he cut all his fur off, how proud he was to show me his new look. The day we simply drove for hours until we stopped in a field of tall, yellow flowers. I ran for miles, never stopping, listening as my human laughed and ran behind me before growing tired. And each time he did I would slow and jump around him, telling him how happy I was, how happy he made me, how wonderful it was to share this experience with him. And he would laugh some more and stand up straight once again, giving me a quick pat on the head as he spoke.

 

“Makka! We brought you some snacks!”

 

Ah. The voice of my human resonates deep within me even as my breathing does not. My eyes struggle for a moment to stay open, to catch a glimpse of him, of his own human, but sadly, can not do as much. This is fine. Knowing he is there, happy as ever to see me despite my old age, is enough for me to make the effort to wag my tail. It isn't much, not by a long shot, but the knowledge that it makes my human happy fuels the action. 

 

Barely, through the constant buzz that had befallen my ears in recent years, their footsteps come closer to me as does their voices, excited and happy and unknowing. 

 

But I know. I was well aware. My mind may not be as sharp as others and I may be old in age, but I am not ignorant in any sense. 

 

I know my time has come as it does with every other being. I was going to leave the earth. My home. My human. 

 

My only regret is that I won't get to play with him one more time. 

 

“Makkachin? You tired?” It was my human's human, with the dark fur and dark eyes and brightest smile. I offered him the smallest of noises just to confirm I was awake. My eyes were not open but I could hear his smile in his next words. “I know how you feel. Maybe some treats will wake you up.”

 

My human's human - I have learned to call him the miracle - is my own human, I suppose. On many accounts, that is, and while the bond between us had been a bit shaky at the start I can feel the love between us grow stronger ever still. However, now, as my own human comes to greet me as well, I know that the strings that link me and my humans will never compare to the ones that run between the two of them. 

 

There was a time when my human's eyes were less blue, less vibrant. The smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes and, try as he might, he couldn't hide the salty tears that welled up in front of those now-grey eyes. Of course, I was always there to help, to lick his face free of such terrible things, and normally he would laugh, hold me close, and pretend I couldn't feel them soaking into my fur. But I played the part of blissful ignorance well, for I knew that even I could become a burden should I intrude for too long. And the last thing I wanted was for him to hate me just as all the others had hated me before. 

 

So, for many a time, blue turned to grey and the smell of salt followed him everywhere he went. But then - the exact time or say of which I do not know as it was far less important in the moment - he came home one day and the blues of his eyes were more brilliant than anything I'd ever seen. His cloth barriers were wrinkled in a way I knew he hated and he smelled strongly of the water that was not water but instead something disgusting, but it seemed not to matter to him as he came in singing. It was hard to catch just how the grey had finally faded, as his smile took up most of his face, but it was there and even I had to take a moment to truly look at my wonderful owner before I was racing into his arms. At the time, I did not know what happened, did not care, as all I cared about was the happiness of my human, but I'm sure it had something to do with the miracle man that came soon after. 

 

Rather, there was a period of time between the blue returning and this new human arriving that happened where the grey slowly came back. Countless moons passed where my human would sit up in the dark hours of night, that bright, slim box of his clutched in his hand, biting his bottom lip so often the smell of copper now joined his natural scent. I didn't like it; I still hate the smell. But I was there in his lap, always, doing my best to figure out why the grey I had come to despise was making a reappearance and just what had brought on the blue. My answer came to the latter came the day we arrived at the place I now call my other home. 

 

It came rather abruptly. One moment we were in the snowy lands I had always known and the next in a foreign place I had yet to be. It was strange at the time, I remember thinking, for my human had taken me a number of places but none such as that, and it was confusing as such to be there, but I didn't complain. It was warm and the humans there loved me so. And the food? Better than anything my human bought me. Life was good for a moment. In that moment. My human was washing up, I was eating, but then everything changed once his miracle walked through the door. 

 

Dark fur, dark eyes, and back then, a dark expression, one that rivalled even my own human's, compelling me to do my best to make this person happy. It's changed now, and for that I am eternally grateful, as I've come to care for this human a great deal just as my own human had done for him as well. 

 

And care for him he does. Never, in all my time on earth, have I seen my human as happy as he is when he is next to the miracle man. That's where his name comes from, really; anything who could bring my human out of such a depressive state just by smiling truly is an otherworldly being. My human is the same with him too, and with good reason too, for as much of a miracle he is it seems as though he doesn't make himself happy. 

 

There are times when he is out and I am left alone with the miracle that the smell of salt is stronger than ever. I find him huddled somewhere - a closet, the kitchen floor, the bathroom - looking more like the small, new humans than anything else, shaking as if he were cold, yet when I touch him he is warm. Whenever this happens I have learned to follow a procedure; force myself into the human's arms, lick away the salt just as I do for my own human, and stay with him until the shaking subsides and he is smiling once more. It's a bit satisfying, whenever this happens, as I know it's me that's helping, making him smile, but the pain of knowing I can not prevent it completely is always there. The desire to never see him as such is there, and I'm sure my human feels it too. But the miracle man never lets my human see him in such a state, never. I wish he would. He needs to know for when I'm not there anymore to comfort him. 

 

He lives with us now. It was odd at first, sharing my human with this miracle boy. There has been times where I was kicked out of the bedroom completely because they are taking up the bed, where I am forced to endure the cold tile of the floor rather than the couch as the humans are too busy holding each other on it. In the beginning, when we still lived in that land without snow, I remember vividly my ill feelings towards the new human; I remember how I was envious of how my own human felt towards him, how he took up his space, my space, invading our lives like he had any right to be there after all that we had already been through together. After all, where had he been when my human had been so grey? Where was he when the smell of salt was all that clouded the air? I knew it was unfair of me to think as such for my human had his reasons for his actions and I would soon find that his affection for this new person in our lives would soon carry on to me. 

 

And carry on it did; quite easily and quickly, I might add. It was obvious why my human was so infatuated with someone like him, why he brought the blue back to his eyes. Even on my first night at the strange place, when I was happily tucked underneath a large blanket, the humans surrounding me, it was his hand that fed me scraps. And what scraps they were; nothing like the food I am still fed in my bowl and nothing like the charred bits that came from anything my human attempted. I am forever blessed that those delicious under-the-table scraps carried on with him to the snowy land. My human seems to like them just as much, if not more. He always gives his human kisses whenever he eats his food. 

 

His kisses are always the best. Warm. Full of love. Of life. I feel like I could live a thousand more moons whenever he lavishes me with them. 

 

If only that were so. 

 

They are talking but I can not hear. My breathing is barely that, more wheezing than anything. There are hands on my back trying to rouse me awake but they are useless in their cause. 

 

My time has truly come. Damned it be that it happens in front of the one person I want nothing more than to hide it from. But, I suppose, the world is cruel like that. It didn't deserve someone as wonderful as he, but to my last moment I am glad that whatever we did in our lives before meeting led us to each other. That may be a bit cruel myself, most certainly selfish on every level, but in my final moments I am allowed to indulge as such. 

 

I am in no pain, thankfully, even as the jostling on my back gets rougher, as the voices begin to get louder. At least it will be peaceful, surrounded by those I love. Not exactly optimal for my human, but it is my very solace in this time. 

 

“Makka, come on, get up! We got the flavor you like and everything!” 

 

Ah, his beautiful voice. I wish I could understand what he was saying. I wish he could understand me. Oh, the things I would say. 

 

_ Thank you for everything you've given me. _

 

“Makka…? Makkachin, are you okay?”

 

_ You've made me the happiest dog on earth. _

 

“Viktor, I-I think…”

 

_ I smell salt again. I'm sorry I can't fix it one more time. _

 

“No… No, no! No, Makka!”

 

_ I hope your human takes care of you well from now on.  _

 

“Makkachin-!”

 

_ I love you. _

  
  



End file.
